


Fire and Smoke

by ComeChaos



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwalin POV, Flashbacks, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeChaos/pseuds/ComeChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin's and Thorin's memories are strung together by fire and smoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Smoke

*~*~*

 

 

The night sky was clear for the first time in days when the company made camp at the foot of a small hill. After having found grazing spots for their ponies, most of the dwarves climbed the hillside to sit in peace at the top for a while and rest their feet. 

 

Dwalin, being one of them, sat on a rock, smoking. He had ended up next to Bofur, and the other dwarf was now stuffing his own pipe as well.

 

Beneath them, to the west, Oin and Gloin was doing their best to get a fire going. After the last days of rain, dry wood was still hard to come by, and so far not even a single flame had been seen leaping up, despite the brothers' endeavours.

 

Halfway up the slope, to the north, stood Thorin. He had removed his coat and armour, and was now pulling his shirt over his head. There was a stitched gash across his chest, Dwalin knew, though he could not see it at the moment. A tavern fight on his way to the Shire, he dared to guess, but he had only seen the wound when Thorin had asked Oin to have a look at it in one of the guest rooms of the hobbit's house, and Thorin had refused to talk about it. Not that it was his business, Dwalin concluded with a sigh. It really wasn't.

 

At the foot of the hill, the pile of wood suddenly blazed up with a bright, yellow glow. In the same moment, Bofur took the first puff from his pipe and exhaled a thin, grey cloud into the air.

 

Fire and smoke.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Burning flesh._

 

”Frerin … _”_

” _He's too far gone, Thorin. There's nothing you can do for him anymore.”_

” _He's my brother!”_

” _I know, Thorin. I know. Please, come 'ere. Let me take care of you.”_

” _No! Let me go!”_

” _Thorin_ _–_ _”_

”No! _Don't you understand? These are_ my _people now, Dwalin. I am their leader. Who'll take care of_ them _if I don't? And now I've lost_ him _too. I can't come with you, not now. I'm_ _–_ _”_

_Thorin's voice broke. His red eyes were filled with guilt and sorrow, and immeasurable weariness. He gave Dwalin's shoulder a pat and turned away._

” _Go and find Balin. Get some sleep.”_

 

~ ~ ~

 

A loud hawking sound made Dwalin turn his head to Bofur. The other dwarf was nodding in Thorin's direction, a pleased smile forming on his lips.

”Now that's a sight.”

Dwalin took the pipe from his mouth.

”Excuse me?”

”Oh, come on, don't tell me you've never thought about it.”

”Thought about what?”

”About – you _know._ ”

 

Bofur waved his own pipe in the air.

”There's nothing to be ashamed of. Few dwarves would say no to that.”

Dwalin leaned closer and placed his hand on Bofur's upper arm, gripping it as hard as the tendons in his fingers allowed.

” _That_ –” he hissed, ”is your king. I suggest you keep your dirty thoughts to yourself, or I'll make sure you never speak another word again.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Old, dry wood crackling._

 

” _You still cold?”_

_Thorin shook his head._

” _No. No, I'm fine.”_

_Dwalin looked up at the low wooden ceiling._

” _Not much in common with the Sapphire Hall, has it? But it's a roof. And we can stay here.”_

_He tried to smile._

” _Do not speak to me of the mountain,” Thorin said quietly._

” _You're right,” Dwalin answered firmly. ”I should speak of the fact that we're alive and breathing_ _–_ _”_

_He laid his hands on Thorin's shoulders and kissed his brow._

”– _and that I'm here with_ you _.”_

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

Leaving Bofur behind, Dwalin went to sit with his brother. After trading a few words about the weather, they smoked their pipes in amicable silence, and Dwalin slowly began to relax again. Eventually, Bofur announced that dinner was ready. To Dwalin's annoyance, he sounded as jovial as ever. 

 

They rose and began to descend the hill, when Thorin's voice called out behind them.

” _Dwalin!_ ”

Dwalin stopped and turned around. Thorin was wearing his full attire again.

”Walk with me,” he said.

 

Dwalin could feel Balin's eyes on his back as he followed Thorin eastward down the hill, away from the others. There was a small grove of willows not far away, whose branches swayed gently when the dwarves stepped in between them.

 

Thorin turned to Dwalin. His face was dark in the shadows under the trees.

”Now, would you mind telling me what that was all about?” he asked sharply.

Dwalin did his best to seem calm, despite the feeling that guilt was coming off of him in cold, clammy waves.

”Pardon me?” he said carefully.

Thorin took a step closer. His eyes were gleaming merely a foot away from Dwalin's.

”Do you think me blind, or a fool? I can see when two dwarves are staring at me, picking a fight. Now tell me what caused it.”

 

When Dwalin did not answer immediately, Thorin turned his back to him and walked away a few paces.

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

_Thyme-scented smoke from the jade hearth._

 

_Fingers entwining, black hair against pristine ochre sheets. Soft sounds slipping from swollen lips._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

Dwalin cleared his throat.

”Bofur said something – inappropriate. About you. He talked about you as if –” 

The words were hard to form.

”Well, as if you were a piece of meat,” he managed at last, in a flat voice.

”Did he indeed,” Thorin said, turning around with an amused smile on his lips. ”And you found it your duty to defend my honour?”

 

Dwalin fixed his eyes on an old, rugged tree trunk in front of him.

”He was being disrespectful. You're his king.”

”What did you tell him?” Thorin asked.

”What I just said.” Dwalin made momentary pause. ”I also threatened him.”

”And what if he repeats his mistake? Will you follow through with your threat?”

Dwalin said nothing.

 

Thorin returned to him and studied his face, sighing impatiently.

”Dwalin. I can't afford any of my men holding grudges against each other. Least of all you. I need you.”

Something tightened in Dwalin's throat.

”I'm sorry,” he mumbled. ”You have my apologies.”

”I know I do.”

”Aye. It's just hard for me when –”

 

He shifted his weight and took a step back. Thorin's eyes followed him in the dusk.

”When what?”

”Forget it. It wasn't my place, I'm sorry.”

”You're right,” Thorin said. ”It wasn't your place.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Bonfires outside the city of Dale._

 

_An tent on the outskirts of the festival area, empty but for the two of them._

 

” _Close your eyes.”_

” _What for?”_

” _Close your eyes, Dwalin.”_

” _Okay,_ fine. _I've closed them.”_

 

_The kiss tasted of ale and honey._

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dwalin shivered.

”Shouldn't we get back to the others? I'd rather there's food left when we return.”

”Of course,” Thorin answered. 

He stepped closer again and turned, so that they were standing shoulder to shoulder.

”There's no use tarrying here,” he added mildly. ”No use digging into a past long buried.”

”Nay,” Dwalin agreed.

”It was another time. We've changed.”

”Aye.”

 

They looked up at the stars that glimmered high above the drooping branches of the trees around them. A wispy cloud had appeared to the east, like a trail of smoke in the breeze.

 

”Dwalin,” Thorin whispered, softly, as if his voice was about to break.

 

 

*~*~*


End file.
